Identity

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The way we identify a person is by their face. We look at their face and put a name with it. We know people based on their face. You may find that you often mistake a person for someone else because they look similar. There are often times when you're sure we just saw someone you knew, but they claimed they didn't know you. You probably shrug it off and think you made a mistake. I'm here to tell you that there are no mistakes.

~

It started with a poor family who'd lost a member of their family. The mother raised her children alone. She had three sons and a daughter. Her oldest, one of her sons, died at a young age. The mother had fallen into a deep depression, but she tried her hardest to stay strong for her family. After her son died, her world fell apart. She acted as normal as she could, for the sake of her children, but every night, when she thought the children were sleeping peacefully in their beds, she cried herself to sleep. Eventually, the mother was able to move on, but the topic of her oldest son was a taboo subject.

I still remember that day clearly, as if it had happened just this morning. It was a bright day, not a cloud in sight. It was Market Day in the town square, so the streets were full of commoners looking to buy the little food they could afford.

I made my way through the crowd of people as quickly as I could. I was slowed down as I continuously bumped into person after person. My heart felt as if it were going to explode at any second as it beat against my chest. My breath came out in pants, and I periodically clenched and unclenched my fists. I occasionally glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was following me.

After looking behind me once more, I turned my attention back in front of me, and I stumbled as I tried to stop my brisk walking. I pulled to a stop in front of a small child looking at me with a puzzled gaze. My eyebrows furrowed together as I met the boy's confused stare. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he studied my face. Just when I decided I needed to keep moving, he spoke, "Alexander?"

I let out a chuckle and whispered, "You think my name's Alexander?" I spoke louder so he could hear me, "Sure kid."

I watched as his eyes grew wide before walking away. I heard the kid yelling, "Alexander!" as I left; but I kept moving. If I stopped again, I could risk getting caught. Something that never left my mind, as hard as I tried to forget it, was the small look of happiness in that boy's eyes when he thought I was Alexander.

It was the nagging thought of the false hope I'd just given the child that made me turn around. I was overly cautious as I made my way back the way I'd just come from. My journey back to the town took twice as long to ensure I wasn't caught.

By the time I reached the town, the moon had gained control of the sky. There wasn't a soul in sight, so I casually strolled through the empty streets with my hands in my pockets. I tried to formulate a plan to find the boy from earlier. I didn't have the slightest clue how to find him. Just as I was giving up hope, I stumbled onto an old farm house. I cringed at the sight of the old house. There were holes in the roof, the paint was chipping off the sides, and there were a few broken windows. It made me wonder how anyone could just abandon their home. That's when I saw it. There were silhouettes moving on the curtains. This house hadn't been abandoned; there were still people living inside.

Thinking of people living inside such a poor excuse of a house peaked my curiosity. I slowly crept up to the window of the house. I could hear the voices clearly through the hole in the broken window, which was covered by a curtain. I recognized one of the voices in the argument.

"Why would you say something like that, Ajax?" a woman hissed in a sorrow filled voice.

"Because it's true!" I heard an angry voice yell.

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